


I love you, Pumpkin

by misfitmonarchy



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Autumn, Blushing Derek Hale, Derek POV, Drinking, First Kiss, Fluff, Halloween, M/M, October theme, Pumpkins, Wooing, Word prompt, derek is a lightweight, smooth stiles stilinski, supernatural alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 01:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15570960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misfitmonarchy/pseuds/misfitmonarchy
Summary: In which Stiles has been trying to woo Derek for nearly two years and has come up with yet another ridiculous excuse to try and get the man's attention. Thus the reason he has enlisted Scott, Isaac and six pumpkins.Let's not forget a bottle of Peter's special whiskey.





	I love you, Pumpkin

**Author's Note:**

> this was for a fun little word prompt in which I had to use the words pumpkin, hook and credibility (from sterekdrabbles on tumblr)
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Edit: It has been pointed out that some think there are consent issues in this piece. For that I would like to point out that Derek is not inhibited to the point of not giving consent. 
> 
> TW/SPOILER: Tipsy kisses

## 

“Stiles, I said no.” 

“Would you just- Derek. Come  _ on _ .” Stiles whines in that god awful tone that makes the wolf cringe. It was hardly even October yet, but here is Stiles, with Scott and Isaac behind him holding fucking pumpkins. 

“I said  _ no. _ You’re not going to make a huge mess in here just because you want to cut stupid faces into a pumpkin and watch it rot.” Stiles looks personally offended, scoffing and pushing his way through the doorway. 

“I- You are unbelievable. Okay? Everyone loves Halloween. And as the only one in the pack with a place to themselves-”

“Stiles-”

“-you’re obligated to let us do it here.” 

“ _ Stiles.”  _ Derek growls, but Stiles just smirks at him like a werewolf flashing their eyes at him was  _ not _ a sign of warning to back off. What the hell was Derek going to do with this idiot?

“Der _ ek _ .” Stiles mimics with a smirk, distracting the tall black haired beta just long enough for Scott, Isaac and about six huge pumpkins to get in the door before he slammed it closed. 

“Come on! When’s the last time you let yourself have some  _ fun?”  _ Stiles complains, wiggling his eyebrows and holding up two bottles that Derek hadn’t noticed yet. 

In the background the boys put down the pumpkins onto the island of the kitchen. Derek crosses his arms and gives Stiles his best glare. It’s getting increasingly frustrating how those amber eyes hook him in and make it hard to keep from agreeing to him. 

“C’mon Derek. Think of it as pack bonding.” Isaac grins, splaying his arms out wide over their haul. As if he wasn’t also a part of this mess, or what would indefinitely  _ be a huge mess _ . 

“No.” 

“Fine. But I’m still drinking.” Stiles says, and though he’s just admitted to giving up, the bounce in his step keeps Derek suspicious. He wouldn’t put it past the freckled bastard to do it anyways the moment Derek turns his back on his clean kitchen. 

“I’m serious.” 

“ _ I’m serious.” _ He imitates in a ridiculous deep voice. Derek doesn’t even sound like that! Scott snorts from his spot with Isaac by the pumpkins. 

When Derek growls at them, it has the desired effect, as they both back off and snicker away as they slip back out the apartment door. If they come back with more pumpkins Derek might actually throw them out of the building physically. 

“Enough, Stiles.” Derek sighs, but lets the man push a glass into his hand filled with two fingers of what smells like some type of whiskey. He meets the man’s eye though, and can’t look away from them as Stiles drinks from his own glass. 

“What’s wrong with some pack time? Huh? Did you go back to your broody reclusive ways the second we all went to university? It’s the first time since September that we’ve all been in the same place for a few days. Even if it’s just me, Scott and Isaac.” Stiles hasn’t lost his touch on the ability to coerce Derek into things. He takes a sip from the amber liquid in his glass to give him a few moments to not answer Stiles’ persistent questions. 

It’s not that he has gone back to his ‘ _ reclusive’  _ ways as Stiles calls them, so much as he’s not keen on a huge ass mess in his kitchen. Because he  _ knows _ it will be a mess. And maybe because he hasn’t done anything in the spirit of Samhain since before the fire. The last time Derek even  _ touched  _ a pumpkin was before he’d dated Paige. 

“You’re going to ruin my kitchen.” He says, because it’s the easiest answer. Stiles doesn’t look like he believes him for a second though. 

“I’ll clean it up then.” He challenges. Derek frowns at the glass as the warm burning feeling of the liquor doesn’t fade as it should. It sits low in his belly until he can feel the warmth make its way back up to his ears. 

“What’s in this?” Derek asks with suspicion.

“It’s whiskey.”

“No it’s not.”

“Oh. No it is, just more your style. A gift from Peter.” He shows Derek the bottle, which is decided much older than he’d first thought. It looks like a regular bottle of whiskey, except the black label has a fine print describing rowan berries and a touch of wolfsbane in its ingredients. Subtle enough to miss if you weren’t looking for it properly. 

“Peter gave you this?”

Stiles smirks, and Derek has a feeling there’s more story behind those lips. He imagines if he were to ask there would be no credibility to the story Stiles has lined up. Knowing those two, it could be anything from something bad Derek doesn’t want to know about to something so very childish and ridiculous that he also doesn’t want to know about it. 

Derek takes another sip, humming as the burn travels down smoothly and sinks into his belly like a warm hug. “It’s good quality.”

“Yeah?

He nods. “Yeah.” Derek lifts his eyes back to Stiles’ who has one hand resting on one of the pumpkins. “You seriously want to let me let you carve pumpkins?” 

“Well there’s nothing else to do.” Stiles shrugs leaning into the island. Derek doesn’t miss how he’s placed himself between Derek and the offending gourds. It’s as if Stiles can tell that Derek was just thinking of what might happen if someone were to push them off the ledge with enough force. 

“And there’s no where else you can do it, is that it?” Stiles grins around the edge of his glass. Those amber eyes catch the light in just the right way that it’s like a grappling hook has caught on Derek’s chest for second. Laura’s eyes were brown too; and they always had a familiar twinkle he can see in Stiles’ now whenever she was seconds from getting him in trouble. 

Unintentionally the memory pulls a small smile to Derek’s mouth but he hides it behind his cup before Stiles can see. 

“ _ Exactly _ . Now you’re starting to get it.” 

“Is that why you brought the liquor? Trying to get me drunk and then you can ruin my kitchen?” 

“Unless you have something else in mind?” The question is playful enough that Derek  _ could _ brush off Stiles’ insinuation. There’s been this...  _ energy _ around them lately. Whenever left alone long enough they end up in this strange verbal game of cat and mouse. He’s not sure if it’s Stiles inviting Derek for something more or if the brunet even knows he’s doing it. The casual touches, barging into his apartment whenever he likes, coming home from university more often than needed in the past two years than Derek thinks has been necessary. Sometimes alone and sometimes with other pack members. 

Derek doesn’t answer right away, just watches the way Stiles is leaning back on the counter, his elbows rest on the counter top allowing for the rest of his body to slouch. Even though they’re nearly the same height, at this angle Derek feels taller. He doesn’t miss the way Stiles wets his lips with his tongue, a flash of wet pink on bitten red. 

Those same lips curve upwards as Derek looks back up to his eyes. God Stiles really will be the death of him. 

“Did you? Have something else in mind? Derek?” He’s staring, Derek realizes and drops his eyes to the glass in his hand. The warmth that clings to his ears makes home in his cheeks. There’s a reason Derek doesn’t drink much, but it’s not really because he’s a lightweight (though it is because he’s never had the time to build up a tolerance when he can’t relax long enough to have a drink or two like Peter). Stiles sets down his glass, Derek can hear the sound of glass meeting the stone counter top and for the first time he realizes that Isaac and Scott are not coming back. 

The whiskey tastes a little sweet from the rowan berries as he finishes off his glass, moving a little closer to Stiles so he could place it on the counter top. “I might.” He finally answers, letting his eyes come back to Stiles’.

They’re closer now, Derek’s hand still resting on the ledge of the island that Stiles has been resting against. Like this, it would be so easy to just lean in and...

“You’re a bit of light weight, aren’t you?” Stiles has that stupid grin back on his face again. The one he gets when he finds a particularly interesting joke to poke at. Derek lets out a breathy chuckle. It was true, his alcohol tolerance would have put his mother to shame. 

“A bit.”

The hand that slides onto Derek’s side is warm, but it’s no big worry to Derek, because the warmth from the liquor is settling in his belly. The last time he drank was probably that one time Peter let him have a bit of wine at dinner when he was like, 15. 

“Your face is red.” Stiles’ grin is devastating. It makes Derek’s heart hurt in a way it hasn’t in such a long time. It’s a good hurt. Derek smiles back, watching Stiles closely to see if this is actually where he thinks it is or if his head is just too deep in this whiskey induced fog to keep his clarity. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Stiles moves so he’s standing up properly, the adjustment draws Derek closer until they’re sharing the same air. Derek admires the moles and freckles that dot his skin. His mother used to say how freckles were kiss marks from angels. 

“Stiles.” Derek mumurs, a voiceless question followed it, where Derek’s eyes fell back to those bitten lips that Stiles couldn’t seem to stop trying to damage. He offers a final out for the man, but Stiles just seems to make his hands at home on his waist. 

“Mhm?” He hums again, and Derek decides  _ fuck it. _

He pushes forward with his lips, letting Stiles take his weight as they fall back a little against the counter. Derek lifts a hand to steady Stiles’s face as his eyes fall shut, lips meeting each other in a rush of need. That ever-charging energy between them crackles in a way that feels almost physical. 

It’s like being shocked by a live wire, but in a way that just leaves shivers of anticipation when he pulls back just as fast as he dove in. Stiles makes a small noise of displeasure, watching Derek with apprehension. It hasn’t quite hit him that he’s just kissed Stiles. Perhaps later, when the liquid courage has worn off he’ll berate himself about what he’s about to do. 

But it felt so  _ right _ . 

He doesn’t wait for Stiles to protest, just surges forward, chasing that electric current of feelings that burn in his chest like a thousand fireworks. Stiles groans, opening his mouth to Derek and the beta licks inside of his hot wet mouth. It’s not really a fight of dominance so much as an admittance of defeat. Derek presses further against Stiles, ignoring what sounds very much like one of the pumpkins hitting the floor in favor for lifting the man up until Stiles is sitting on the counter, legs wrapped around Derek’s middle and their lips are crashing together again hungrily. 

Stiles’ limbs never seem to end, as they wrap around him in a vice grip while Derek’s hands wander as they please. He hopes this never ends, this mindless hunger that they’re sharing in this moment. He hopes Stiles doesn’t try to think straight until later when Derek will be able to find some excuse to push away the burning feeling of  _ finally _ that’s coursing through his veins. 

“Derek..” It’s a breathless whisper but he doesn’t open his eyes, just let’s his mouth fall to that pulse point that’s been tempting him for ages now. “Derek- wait-” He pauses, eyes still closed as Stiles’ fingers card through his hair. “We should talk about this-” No. No please just give him this.

“I-” He tries to pull his thoughts together. He shouldn’t have done this. Derek begins to pull away. Stiles resists and Derek makes the mistake of opening his eyes and meeting his eyes. Those gorgeous amber eyes that he just can’t stay away from. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“No, you big idiot. You don’t get to do that.”

“What?” He asks stupidly to the frowning lips in front of him. He already misses their whiskey tinged taste. 

“You don’t get to act like this was some stupid mistake- No. We’re going to talk about how much you like me and how fucking hard it was for me to finally get your attention- I mean. Pumpkins, Derek?  _ Really? _ It’s literally the first of October.”

He frowns and pulls back a little more, so that he can think without those lips distracting him. Derek looks back up to Stiles’ eyes. They’re honed in on him like a laser, watching in him in a little incredulously. “I thought you wanted to-”

“Oh my  _ God. _ I can’t believe I’m in love with you.” He groans, and before Derek can even catch his breath after it’s been punched out from those words, Stiles pulls him back in. Those lips are Derek’s new favorite language, and decides he wouldn’t mind learning how to speak it in volumes. 

Stiles pulls back and laughs at Derek’s dazed expression. Derek’s not really sure what’s happening, Stiles got him tipsy, they kissed and now Stiles loves him? There’s definitely  _ something _ else in that whiskey. “You love me?” He asks in a small voice. He must have heard that wrong. 

The smile he gets is one Derek has never seen. It’s soft and warm, a look that he’s never seen on Stiles’ face. 

“Of course I do, idiot. Not that you’d notice but it’s been a while.” 

“I don’t know what to say.” 

“Then don’t, for now. Just know that I’m serious about this.” Derek nods stupidly at that, because it’s been a while since he’s felt like his intelligence has had any credibility at all around Stiles. “Now kiss me again.” He grins and yeah, that’s something Derek can do. 

It might take a while, but he thinks he can allow himself to love Stiles too. If he doesn’t already. 

**Author's Note:**

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